


Until We Meet Again

by galaxyprince



Series: Until We Meet Again [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mostly Fluff, its kind of modern but like future modern, not in line with the canon world, the classic running into someone after a long time AU, winter festivals are great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 19:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyprince/pseuds/galaxyprince
Summary: The snow began to fall on the night they met, and many years later it will fall again on the night they are reunited.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Who knew it would take me this long to write something for my favorite ship? This idea started off as something small and is now turning into a beast of a fic. I didn't want to split this prologue into chapters, but when we get to the present day part of the fic it will be chaptered. So this is like... much longer than the chapters will be.  
> This prologue covers when young Hanzo and Jesse meet each other for the first time.

His reflection in the mirror frowned back at him as Hanzo ran his hands through his hair. It had gotten longer, but his father refused to let him cut it. He said it made him look more like the powerful family heads he will succeed. Hanzo furrowed his brows, his traditional garb seemingly out of place compared to what he knew Genji would be wearing. He was going to have to take the brunt of his father’s praise once again this year, Genji being cast aside in favor of Hanzo’s ‘willingness’ to impress upon the investors at the shrine.  
  
He took a breath, turning to let Hisami do his makeup. “Nothing too gaudy, please,” Hanzo sighed, kneeling in front of her. Hisami laughed, her short bob tied back from her face with a red bow.

“Don’t worry, Hanzo, I’m just going to make sure you look acceptable so your father will leave you alone,” She smoothed the front of her yukata as she knelt down as well, pulling out some dark eye shadow and eyeliner. She leaned in, her fingers delicate as she applied the makeup.

When she was done, Hanzo turned to the mirror once again, admiring her work. “You are quite amazing,” He said, touching his face.

“Hey,” She swatted his hand away. “You will mess it up if you touch it too much.”

“Sorry,” Hanzo apologized, standing. “Thank you. I will see you at the festival, Hisami,” He walked out of the room, fussing with the tie around his waist. Hisami watched him go as the door closed behind him.

Hanzo was met in the hallway by his father, standing tall with his arms folded in front of him. Hanzo bowed, removing his hands from his haori himo and putting his arms to the side respectfully.  
“Stand straight,” His father commanded. Hanzo obliged, standing straight and meeting his father’s gaze. “Have you seen Genji?”

“My apologies, I have not,” Hanzo replied.

“He is going to the festival tonight, yes? There will be many important dignitaries and CEOs there that wish to meet the future leaders of my company,” Hanzo’s father grinned proudly.

“I will find him and assure that he goes, father.”

“Thank you,” The Elder Shimada smiled softly, putting a hand on Hanzo’s head and walking past him to finish getting ready for the night. Hanzo bowed as he went past, turning ahead again to search for his brother.

“Genji,” He whispered, narrowing his eyes. He decided the first place to look if his Father couldn’t find Genji in the walls is at the ramen place down the street. He hurried past the guards at the doors to the main house, out into the garden, bowing as he went. The pond had started to gather a thin layer of ice in some places, and the stream was flowing slower than it normally did. Hanzo smiled to Hisami and Reiko as he passed them on the bench. Reiko stopped him.

“Where are you headed?” She asked, her smile suspicious but teasing.

“Genji has disappeared again,” Hanzo replied. Reiko nodded knowingly.

“Best find him before your father learns he has been outside the walls all night,” She winked, offering no assistance and instead turning back to the Go board between her and Hisami on the bench. Hanzo rolled his eyes and sighed, bowing to them and continuing towards the large gates at the front of the estate.

He did his best to climb over in his _kimono_ , the _haori_ hindering the freedom of his arms. He stopped to perch on the top, looking down the hill at the streets below. The countryside was all lit up for the festival, and several streets with shops had opened up the fronts, putting stands outside awaiting customers. Hanzo’s eyes widened as he looked out into the city in the distance. He had never seen the festival from this high before, and he was mesmerized by the cheerfulness of the people who had already begun to roam the streets. It looked like something he had only ever seen in photographs, a beautiful merging of the hillside to the bright heart of the city below.

He smiled, allowing himself one last look before the wind guided his jump down to the street below. He looked back at the gates, making sure nobody heard his exit. Once he was satisfied that he had escaped unnoticed, he started down the stairs that lead to the lower streets.

He only had to walk half a block before he was caught up in the beginnings of festivities. He watched a young girl eat a stick of _takoyaki_ whole, not pausing to savor the taste at all. Hanzo sighed, wondering what it was like to be that free as a child. He was close to 20 years old, and had never once been able to just enjoy the festivities without having to cater to his father’s mingling with adults or watching after Genji.

A man was playing guitar down the road, and Hanzo closed his eyes, listening to all of the sounds around him. It felt nice to just walk the streets without having to entertain suitors or talk business with people he didn’t really care about.

Hanzo ducked his head into the ramen shop that Mrs. Shouto ran, narrowly missing a young girl carrying a tray of full bowls. He apologized, his eyes scanning the very crowded restaurant for his brother. He walked past tables of people in different outfits, both traditional and modern, but none of them seemed to house his bright eyed, loud, little brother.  
Finally, he heard someone yell from his left.

“Ah, _anija!_ ”

Hanzo turned to see a rather bright green head of hair stand on a chair and wave him down. He huffed and ran a hand over his face before pulling it away quickly, remembering the makeup that Hisami worked so hard to do.

He felt his face heat up, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached the table. “Genji!” Hanzo hissed, lowering his voice so only his brother could hear. “What have you done to your hair?” He asked, his eyes scanning over Genji’s outfit, landing on the bright green spikes held back by a headband.

Genji hummed, leaning back in his chair and finishing off a slice of egg. “Felt like a change,” He grinned, poking at his brother’s arm with the chopsticks. Hanzo pulled his arm away, brushing off the broth that the chopsticks left behind and swatting at Genji’s hand.

“Father is going to be _furious_!” Hanzo gaped, amazed that his brother could continue to rebel as much as he did. Hanzo knew he was going to have to take the fall for it once more.

“Don’t worry, Hanzo, it’s totally fine. I’m going to get out of here after this festival anyway. There’s a flight leaving for New York this week, and I’m gonna hop on it and go to America.” Genji said proudly, slurping up some more of the noodles.

“ _You what_?” Hanzo asked, his voice cracking in disbelief. “You’re going to leave?”

“I wouldn’t want to leave you if I had a choice, but I can’t live as father’s disappointment anymore. I have to live as my own success” Genji put the noodle bowl down triumphantly, proud of his words. He turned to Hanzo, his face torn between a smile and despair. “Come with me?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Hanzo looked to the side, refusing to meet Genji’s eyes. Genji frowned.

“Please, we can—“ Genji reached out, touching Hanzo’s wrist. Hanzo yanked his hand away.

“ _Stop it_!” He growled, raising his voice enough to draw attention from the surrounding patrons. “You’re being selfish _again_ , Genji,” Hanzo narrowed his eyes, bearing his teeth. Genji leaned away.

“Hanzo…”

“Enough, Genji. You always do this, you always run away and leave me to clean up the mess.” Hanzo frowned, trying to pull away from the conversation in any way he could. Blaming Genji for running away when he was about to do the same thing, not wishing to face the conversation, the thought that he would be losing the one person keeping him grounded in this nightmare, he knew he was being a hypocrite.

“You can come with me!” Genji tried again. Hanzo shoved him back, the front legs of the chair lifting off the ground.

“Traitor,” He grit out, bitter and unforgiving.

With that, Hanzo left back out the front door, into the throng of people that had multiplied out front as the night wore on and the festival got under way. People were carrying various desserts on sticks, and holding lanterns and decorative purses.

Hanzo was bumped into several times as he shuffled around down the pavement, not bothering to apologize or make an effort to look where he was going. The cobblestone path blurred in his vision, and he realized that he was crying.

He laughed shallowly, his heart beating fast against his chest. “Hisami is going to have my head,” He muttered, trying to wipe the tears from ruining the makeup.

He felt a rather strong bump against his shoulder, causing him to stumble and fall into a wall beside him.

“Oh, heck. I’m real sorry, partner, I didn’t mean ta run into ya,” A heavily accented voice fussed from in front of him.

Hanzo shivered, the tears still falling from his eyes. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face the person offering a hand to him while his dignity was smashed to pieces. He didn’t take the offered hand, instead pressing a hand to his eyes and trying to hide in plain sight.

“Y’alright there?” The voice said again. Hanzo cursed whatever bad luck he had tonight that this guy wasn’t planning on leaving him alone any time soon.  
He took a deep breath and looked up, trying his hardest to look mad as he could with tears streaming down his cheeks. His face softened when his eyes met dark brown irises, the look the guy was giving him nothing short of genuinely concerned. Hanzo’s bones felt heavy.

Instead of leaving him alone like Hanzo wanted, the guy grabbed his hand and began to lead him through the crowded street. They weaved through the myriad of people with expert skill, and Hanzo watched the back of the boy’s head, his short wavy hair hidden under a rather obnoxious cowboy hat. Hanzo snorted, despite himself, at meeting a stereotypical American at a winter festival in Japan. The street began to empty as they reached a small section of buildings without stands out front.

Suddenly, the guy stopped. “I really am sorry,” He said, “didn’t mean to cause you any problems but you seemed like you wanted to be out of there somethin’ fierce.”

“It is… okay,” Hanzo said, not meeting the guys gaze.

“M’name’s Jesse, by the way,” He said, finally releasing Hanzo’s hand. Hanzo chased the touch for a moment before letting his arm fall to his side. “You got a name, darlin’?”

“Hanzo,” He replied, scoffing at the endearment tagged onto the end of the question. They hardly knew one another, what was this guy thinking.

“It’s a pleasure, Hanzo,” Jesse tipped his hat and Hanzo finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous notion. “Are you, uh,” Jesse paused, trying to come up with something to say. “You enjoyin’ the festival, Hanzo?”

“It is hardly of your concern,” Hanzo bit out, harsher than he intended. He recoiled a bit at the sound of his own voice. It wasn’t Jesse’s fault that he had been having a bad night and he should hardly be the butt of the blame.

“It’s my first time here, in Japan that is,” Jesse rattled on, unfazed by Hanzo’s harsh words. “It’s real pretty. Cold though. Don’t think I dressed in enough layers to be out enjoyin’ the weather tonight.” He laughed, a low sound that echoed through his chest, and Hanzo felt a weight lifted by just listening to he cowboy talk. “What a coincidence that I came during what seems to be a huge festival, too,” He grinned, lifting the brim of his hat to look back in the direction they came at everyone on the street enjoying themselves.

Hanzo listened to him talk, his eyes never leaving Jesse’s. Jesse caught him staring and smiled warmly. “Hey, I don’t much know what’s goin’ on here in this festival, me not bein’ a native and all, and you look like you need some kinda distraction. Why don’t you show me around, Hanzo?” Jesse offered, his confidence faltering a bit, but his determination was ever present.

Hanzo thought it was endearing. “If you wish,” He said, taking a deep breath. He nodded in the direction of the most populated shops. As he took the lead, Jesse followed enthusiastically.

They were about halfway through the market when Hanzo realized what a sight they must be. Himself in traditional formal wear, makeup probably running down his face, and a genuine cowboy complete with hat and spurs. He shook his head and smiled. Jesse looked down at him.

“Somethin’ funny, sweetheart?”

“Do not call me that. And no, just… an amusing sight we must be,” He gestured to Jesse’s outfit.

“I don’t exactly fit in, do I?” Jesse acknowledged as a young boy pointed to him and smiled.

“What gave it away?” Hanzo quipped back. Jesse laughed again, loud and carefree. Hanzo envied him.

“I like you, Hanzo, you’re one of the nicest fellas I’ve met this whole trip,” Jesse leaned into him lightly. Hanzo smiled.

“It has… been a while since I have enjoyed the festival with an acquaintance for something other than work. It is pleasant,” Hanzo hummed. A stand caught his eye and he nodded for Jesse to follow him. “Come, look at this.”

“What?” Jesse swiveled awkwardly on his toe to catch up to Hanzo; who took turns gracefully and glided on his feet. They stopped in front of a stand selling small lanterns.

“You said you wanted to learn about this festival do you not?” Hanzo asked, raising an eyebrow. Jesse nodded. “Then listen.”

Hanzo took a breath, picking up a lantern. “A long time ago, a man decided that he would no longer mourn the fallen quietly, keeping their spirits here on Earth without their desire to stay. He lit a lantern, the paper decorated with beautiful depictions of love, family, and nature. The lantern drew the spirits to it, allowing them shelter before they were to move onto the afterlife. As long as the candle burned, the spirits were able to use it as a beacon of safe passage, resting after a long life trapped here. When the candle went out, all the spirits that used it as refuge were able to finally be free and move on. Now, we continue that tradition, allowing all the spirits who passed away this year safe passage to their final resting place,” Hanzo said quietly, his eyes on the lantern. “We may not know who they are,” He handed the lantern to Jesse, who took it carefully in two hands. “But they were someone’s loved one. Even if they didn’t have anyone when they passed, they have someone willing to light a lantern.”

“That’s…” Jesse paused, his voice quiet and respectful, quieter than Hanzo had ever heard him in the short time that they had known one another. “That’s real kind of ya... Do you think I could light one? Y’know, for spirits back in America? Do you think they would see it?” He asked, thoughtfully, but as if he doubted his question.

Hanzo nodded. “I think they would love that,” He said, picking out a lantern for himself. The man who owned the shop bowed as Hanzo left the change for the lanterns on the counter. He led Jesse away, holding the lantern by the handle in both hands.

Hanzo looked over to see Jesse still looking at the lantern, holding it tightly but carefully in his palms. Hanzo continued to lead the way through the stalls of people, his mind drifting back to his father. He frowned, realizing he hadn’t brought Genji back, and now he himself was not around. His father would be furious when he finally realized that both of his sons had disobeyed his wish to meet the important people who had come to the country for the festival.

Hanzo led them to a small park with lots of trees and flowers. “We light them here,” He said. “The trees act as protection from the elements, so the candle stays lit for as long as possible,” Hanzo observed. He guided Jesse to kneel around a large rock, instructing him to set the small lantern on top. The two lanterns sat side by side, and Hanzo passed Jesse a match to light his lantern before striking one himself.

The candles burned brightly inside the paper lanterns, the flame flickering in the soft breeze. “If you desire, you can also say something, a wish for a good passing,” Hanzo said, his voice low as he closed his eyes and folded his hands in his lap.

Jesse began to speak, and Hanzo opened his eyes, watching as the young man before him looked smaller than his size should allow. Hanzo wanted to inform him that usually the wishes are kept quiet, as thoughts, but didn’t want to be insensitive.

Jesse removed the hat from his head, holding it between his hands. “Ma, I’m real sorry. For everythin’. I ain’t never meant to get you and _pequeñita_ wrapped up in everythin’, and if I could get a second chance I would’a never joined that gang. _Las amo a ambas… lo siento, lo siento. Perdóname, por favor, mis amados._ ” He whispered. Hanzo stared, his eyebrows pulled together. He didn’t understand what Jesse was saying, but he knew that he was upset.

Hanzo opened his mouth, and Jesse caught his eyes. “Do not…” Hanzo started, swallowing uncertainty. Jesse had helped him, the least he could do was listen and offer condolences. “Do not blame yourself. I am sure they do not. I am sure they appreciate your words.” He said, quietly. Hanzo was aware that he didn’t have the best bedside manner, and that he was bad at comforting people. But, he felt like he needed to try.

Jesse’s eyes softened, and he smiled at Hanzo. “Thanks, Han. I appreciate this. All of this. I sure am sorry that I wasn’t able to be more help to you. I… I know I’m a stranger but if you wanna talk about whatever had you all upset when I ran into you I will listen,” Jesse started to trip over his words, his tongue catching on his teeth in a flurry of confused accents, the smooth Spanish and rough southern mixing together clumsily. “I ain’t much of a guy but I think I owe it to ya after everything, ya know? I dunno I just trust ya is all I guess and I want ya to trust me too,” Jesse fumbled, running a hand down the back of his neck. Hanzo was silent for a while. “Sorry I shouldn’t’a asked—“

“My brother,” Hanzo said suddenly, his voice loud enough to cut Jesse off. “My brother wishes to leave for America. He wishes to leave the family estate to pursue his dreams and is thrusting all of his responsibilities onto me.”

Jesse met Hanzo’s eyes. Hanzo looked away, not wishing to tell Jesse everything while having to look at the warm hospitality that lived within his eyes.

“My father… He has very specific ideas for both of us, and my brother is running away from it. It’s just like him, not wishing to face the real world and instead living inside of a dream with his rebel friends and delusions,” Hanzo paused, his face falling from anger into loneliness. “I… do not think I can do this alone…” He said, meeting Jesse’s eyes once more. “I am not as strong as they all think I am.”

“Han,”

“There is nothing you can do,” Hanzo frowned, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I do not know why I told you that. It has nothing to do with you… I am sorry to have burdened you with this information,” Hanzo grit his teeth, trying to figure out what made him want to tell Jesse, of all people, of his misfortune. He should have confided in Hisami, as least they had known each other for years instead of hours.

Hanzo felt the sudden shiver of a gust of wind, and a snowflake fell onto his hand. He looked up, greeted by the slow flurry of the first snow of the winter. He saw Jesse lift his hand to catch the snow in his palm.

There was something about him that Hanzo couldn’t tear himself away from.

“Hey,” Jesse met his gaze, reaching around the rock to wipe a snowflake from Hanzo’s hair before retracting his hand slowly. “It may be none of my business, but I think your brother won’t forget about ya. What you’re doin’ for him by lettin’ him go and you stayin’ here… That takes a lot of courage, and you must really love him for wantin’ to let him live his dreams,” Jesse paused. “I’m just a dumb cowboy, but I think if you really wanted to stop him you could, and he wouldn’t go. I think you want him to go, to get him out of here while he still can. I think you didn’t fight him because you know this is his chance, the chance you didn’t get, and you love him so you’re gonna let him go. I think he knows it too, and I think he is sad to leave you but appreciates you so much you don’t even know,” Jesse said, leaning in over the lanterns to console Hanzo softly, his eyes falling to the candles between them.

Hanzo was silent, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jesse began to backtrack, the words coming out of his mouth a million miles a minute. He waved his hands in the air and muttered apologies. Hanzo stared in awe, realizing he had allowed himself to cry again. The tears were hot on his cheek and he just let them be.

Jesse was right. Hanzo beat himself up for allowing his anger to be directed towards Genji. He was angry with himself for blaming Genji for wanting to live his life, to be free. He was going to get the chance Hanzo never got, and Hanzo knew that, and he was jealous. He had no right to be angry at Genji. Genji was his brother, and his father always said that you must do everything for family.

Jesse was still trying to apologize, Hanzo realized, and he frowned.

Standing from where he had been kneeling across from Jesse, Hanzo made his way to Jesse’s side of the rock. The cowboy leaned backwards, still trying to reassure Hanzo he probably didn’t know what he was talking about.

Hanzo kneeled quickly, taking Jesse’s cheeks in his hands. “Thank you,” He said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Jesse’s lips to keep him from talking.

Jesse’s hands flailed to either side of Hanzo for a moment while he figured out what to do with them. He finally settled his hands on Hanzo’s hips, holding on for dear life as Hanzo kissed him. Jesse’s lips were chapped from the cold, and he ran his tongue along the contrasting smooth skin of Hanzo’s, asking for permission to press even closer.

Hanzo allowed it, humming as Jesse’s tongue glided over his own. Hanzo shifted his weight to push up further on his knees, and knocked the hat off of Jesse’s head with his insistence.

They began to pull away to catch their breath; Jesse still pressing soft kisses to Hanzo’s mouth. Hanzo had wrapped his hands around Jesse’s neck and laughed into his cheek. “Was’so funny?” Jesse asked.

“My father is going to be livid. Not only did I not bring my brother back, but I have been kissing a cowboy in the park instead of schmoozing wealthy investors,” He grinned against Jesse’s mouth.

Jesse laughed, almost wanting to ignore the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket. He nudged Hanzo away, reaching down to pull it out and read the text on the screen. “Shit,” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, running his tongue along his lips.

There were several messages that Hanzo could see, two missed calls, a voice mail. “What is it?” He asked, sitting back on his heels.

“ _Aye… estoy tan muerto. Mierda. Que es su problema, dos llamadas…_ ” Jesse mumbled in Spanish before unlocking his phone and opening the text. “ _Gabi_ is goin’ to hang me by my chaps from the rafters…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told him I would only be gone for an hour, an’ that we could get dinner but I totally forgot.”

“Gabi?” Hanzo asked, looking from Jesse to the phone.

“Gabriel, he’s like, my guardian or somethin’ I guess. We ain’t put a name on it or nothin’ yet. He took me in a few years ago off the streets. He’s military, y’know? That’s why we are here. Plane for New York leaves tomorrow morning…” Jesse shot off a quick text before turning back to Hanzo. He backtracked when he caught sight of Hanzo’s eyes.

“ _New York_ ,” Hanzo hissed. “ _New York takes everything_ ,” The Japanese too quick and bitter for Jesse to catch any of the words.

“I’m sorry darlin’… I should’a stopped ya. I knew I was leavin’, this is my fault,” He said, reaching out to touch Hanzo’s cheek.

“Go,” Hanzo said, brushing Jesse’s hand off. Angry he had to give someone up for the second time that night.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Who knows,” Hanzo said, resigned, not looking at Jesse’s eyes.

No matter how hard Jesse tried, Hanzo wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t want to see the face that he allowed himself to care for that night.

Jesse finally stood, picking up his hat and dusting the snow off of it. Hanzo watched Jesse’s feet, expecting him to leave, and closed his eyes. He opened them suddenly when he felt the weight of Jesse’s hat on his head, Jesse’s hand lingering on the top of it. “Look after this for me, would ya? _Hasta que nos reuníamos de nuevo_.” Jesse said quietly.

Hanzo watched him go, the snow gathering on his lap. He looked back at the lanterns, the candles still burning bright through the snow.

He looked up what Jesse said after he was confined to his room.

_‘Until we meet again.’_

“I will hold you to that, Cowboy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first part of this crazy fic I have decided to task myself with writing!!!  
> If you haven't noticed, I'm a huge advocate for Jesse being able to speak Spanish; not just learned from Gabe but from his heritage.  
> That being said, my Spanish is super rusty (like I haven't had to speak it to anyone in over 3 years and it's not my first language), so if you notice something is wrong please please let me know and I will fix it!!!  
> I have made up the festival as well, it's something that the small town Hanzo lives near does independently of everywhere else. I based it loosely on several other festivals that exist in real life.  
> Also, let my boys cry. They have emotions. Pls.
> 
> Translations:  
>  _Pequeñita_ \- Teeny. A nickname Jesse uses for his younger sister  
>  _Las amo a ambas… lo siento, lo siento. Perdóname, por favor, mis amados._ \- I love you both... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Forgive me, please, my loves.  
>  _Aye… estoy tan muerto. Mierda. Que es su problema, dos llamadas…_ \- Aye... I am so dead. Fuck. What is his problem, two phone calls...  
>  _Hasta que nos reuníamos de nuevo._ \- Until we meet again.


End file.
